JohnLock: Secrets Kept
by MissAmyX
Summary: JohnLock romance. WARNING: FEELS. LOADS OF FEELS.
1. Chapter I: Admit It

"What time is it, John?", Sherlock called across the room to his flatmate.

Sherlock stood there awiting John's reply. His tall physique towering over John's shorter one. Sherlock's face was buried in a microscope, examining blood cells.

"It's half past eleven... Are you alright Sher-", John began only to be cut off.

"Shut up. I'm thinking.", Sherlock snapped back.

Sherlock sighed deeply, realizing he might have hurt John. Holding back his concern, Sherlock goes back to working, trying so hard not to blush.

"Uh.. Sherlock, why don't you relax a bit. Have some tea... Or food.", John suggests, stuttering nervously.

"Hm? Oh. you know I can't eat when I work. Food slows me down. Go ahead and eat John. I'll be fine."

Sherlock peered up for a moment. His gaze was breif but made his cheeks flush with red. He knew he slipped up just slightly. Hoping John did not notice, he slipped back to his work.

"Damnit. I can no longer concentrate.", Sherlock spoke in a monotoned anger.

John hid behind a mask, noticing how Sherlock was slightly red. He just wanted to rush over to him and hold him so tight. He could no longer fight his feelings. He could only restrain himself from grabbing hold of his Sherlock.

With a swift movement, Sherlock stood, glancing at his John and donning his coat. "Are we leaving or not?" His voice shattered the awkward silence. Still maintaining his gaze on John, Sherlock began to step forward. "Please... I.. I'm feeling something. Come here, John." His voice was shaky and nervous.

"Sh-Sherlock...", John began to approach him slowly and stopped just two steps away. He was hesitant to move any closer. "What are you feeling lo-", his voice trailed off before he could finish his last word.

Sherlock, hands shaking, reached out to grab hold of John and bring him close into him. He held John so tight and would not let go. Their hearts raced in synchronization. Both of the men were nervous, trembling and whole in that moment.

John moved in closer to Sherlock while in the embrace. He put his arms around his waist and lay his head on Sherlock's chest.

Sherlock, surprised by John's action, places his hand upon John's head. He ran his hands through his lovers hair and lifted his face. Sherlock, without hesitation, lay his lips upon John's.

John, confused and blushing bright red, accepts the kiss and embraces him closer.


	2. Chapter II: Awkward Snowflakes

It's just like Sherlock to take the lead. He's got John in a frenzy, with his heavy breathing and fast heart beat, Sherlock's hands begin to sweat. Both of their stomachs are full of butterflies.

Only forty-five short seconds. That's all it took for the passion to rush in. Without words, both Sherlock and John told each other every thought and emotion they have ever had about and for each other.

Breaking the awkward post kiss embrace, Sherlock mutters, "John... I'm feeling hungry. Shall we be on our way?" His coat, already on and prepared to leave, John stops him.

"Don't... Let's stay in. We can order out tonight. Just us. We must discuss things.",speaks John in a strong voice.

"Ok. I want Chinese then.", Sherlock announces, unbuttoning his coat and laying it flat on the arm-chair.

About twenty-two exact minutes later the food had arrived. The room held an aura of awkwardness. The men sat away from each other, gazing small glances to and fro.

"So... About earlier", John began, only to be cut off.

"It was nothing. Just a small kiss. I've previously explained to you that I am married to my work. I care not for relationships.", Sherlock protested.

Back to the silence. Too painfully quiet. Sensing something is wrong, Mrs. Hudson comes up.

"Oh! I did not know you were home! It's unusually quiet. I expect you boys to be doing one of your strange experiments."

They both glance up and say, "Hello Mrs. Hudson."

"It's a quiet night, Mrs. Hudson. Nothing much going on." John speaks up, to break the awkward sense of the room.

"Oh... Then why are you two red and.. Nevermind. Just as long as you two are ok." Mrs. Hudson senses the tension and takes her leave.

Sherlock sighed. John glanced up, seeing Sherlock just picking at his food. He wondered if he is alright. Too afraid to speak up, John looks down and moves his food away. He wishes so much that Sherlock would come to join him. He wishes to be next to him, in his arms.

He remembers how every night he would check to be sure Sherlock is alright before turning in to bed. He knows that if anything were to happen to Sherlock, he would be lost. This night, however, John was too upset and tired from the days work to do that. He needed rest.

"Sherlock, I'm off to bed. I hope you shall be turning in soon, as well." John rises and begins to walk. He placed a hand on Sherlock's shoulder as he says he hoped he will do the same.

He went to his room to sleep, leaving Sherlock alone. It was beginning to snow outside. The flakes, some big and some small, began to coat Baker Street, glistening under the street lamps.

Sherlock stared at the descending snow. Some flakes were big and others were small. He was able to identify every size and shape of each passing flake. Feel planted at the windows base, eyes still staring outside, Sherlock reached down for his violin.


	3. Chapter III: Confession

Sherlock spent nearly two hours playing his violin. To him it felt more like ten minutes. Hie eyes felt heavy and the snow had covered about a foot of the sidewalk below.

He began to his bed and stopped. He remembered his John was asleep upstairs. He could not stand being alone tonight. He would not sleep.

He sighed and proceeded up the stairs to see John's bedroom door cracked. He peered in, nervously, to see how he was doing.

John lay there, alone. While Sherlock was playing his violin, he was thinking. "Why did he kiss me if he did not mean it?"

He grabbed his pillow out of confusion and shoved it under his head, mumbling Sherlock's name. He eventually fell asleep, the street light coming in, reflecting off of the falling snow. The sight of the snow falling eventually calmed John and put him into a deep sleep.

Peering into John's room, Sherlock remembered everything that had happened between them. Every case they had solved.

"John.. I am feeling this something again..", he began to weep lightly without tearing up. He bent down and unbuttoned his boots, then his shirt. He took them off and shifted into bed next to his lover.

He thought of putting his arm around him. Would it disturb his peaceful rest? Would he flip out? Rationalizing everything, Sherlock decided to place his hand through John's hair.

It did not disturb John at all. Sherlock placed his arms around his John and held his close. John awoke lightly and turned to face Sherlock.

"I... I'm sorry. I did not mean to disturb you. I can go...", Sherlock began.

"No. Stay. Please." John protested, placing his hand to Sherlock's beautiful chest. "Sherlock, I... I told you I was not gay. It's true. I'm not gay... I'm bisexual."

John came out to his dear friend, and lover, Sherlock. Sherlock lay there, un-amused and fully expectant to hear those words.

"John, you might have noticed by now. Ever since we met, that day in the lab, I felt this. You might think I'm asexual, but I am not. I have tried too long to push you away. It doesn't work. I need you so much, John. I..."

John looked into his lovers eyes, letting his emotions free. "I love you."


	4. Chapter IV: Memory

Those words pierced Sherlock and, for a moment, let his emotions show. He pulled John close and held him to his chest.

"John... I love you. Since the first time I saw your face." Sherlock broke down.

John awoke from his dream. Cold and broken. The snow is coming down.

"Sherlock... Why did you jump?!" John sprung up and punched the wall. The tears began down his face.

The time was 3:48 am. He figures he'd just stay up and look through the blog again. He misses his Sherlock. So much. He just wishes he was alive and would come home. Where he belongs. In his arms.

He sat awake in front of his laptop. Tears streaming down his face, remembering what he asked at Sherlock's gravestone.

"I was so alone and I owe you so much. Please, there's just one more thing. One more thing. One more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't be... dead."

His silent tears fell. Alone again. He picks up Sherlock's violin and holds it. "Damn you! You brilliant man!"

He sat back in front of the laptop, listening to a violin ensemble of Hallelujah. His tears would no longer be silent. Each one fell, like the snowflakes that seemed to feel the pain John is feeling, to the music.


	5. Chapter V: New Day

The sun began to rise and John awoke startled. He had not realized he had passed out in front of the laptop. Mrs. Hudson was in the kitchen, sorting through the contents of the fridge.

"Good morning, dear. I heard your whimpering last night. Is everything alright?" Mrs. Hudson placed a plate of biscuits next to his freshly brewed tea on the table. "Did you have another one of those dreams dear?"

She hated seeing John like this. It's not like him. He should not be so sad. Mrs. Hudson herself was feeling pretty down as well. Without Sherlock, the flat was empty. It was dark.

-

John's phone rang at about half past 12. It was Mycroft again. He calls on the daily around the same time.

"Mycroft..." John answered, seeming rather upset.

"John.. How are you? It seems you are not handling my brother's apparent death well still, hm?" Mycroft snidly replied.

"Today is not a good day. I'm out searching for work."

"Oh? It's about time. Enjoy the day, John."

The call ended abruptly. The click echoed in John's ear. John loathed those calls.

-

After the call, Mycroft continued writing his thoughts to his brother.

The paper read:  
"Sherlock, it seems as if John is slowly starting to get over your death. It's about time to. It's been almost a year. He hasn't begun dating, yet. I wonder why. Was there something more between you two? I haven't a care for that, anyway. What you two had going was between you both. I need not know.

My dear brother, I say it's a good thing to see Mrs. Hudson and John get over your death. It's nearly Christmas. What we all wouldn't give just for you to still be alive by some miracle. Oh, Sherlock. I do miss you. We all do. Just come back to us."

Mycroft rose from his chair and took the paper with him. He folded it in two and placed it into an envelope.

"I guess I'll be off." He stared outside from his window. The snow was still lightly falling still, leaving the ground's fresh footsteps covered and forgotten.

He picked up his coat and letter and head out into the cold. His destination is to be Sherlock's gravestone.

-

John sighed and shook his head after Mycroft's call. He grasped hold of his cane and continued on.

He stopped by the hospital to check on Molly and to check for open positions. He desperately needs a job to pay rent.

"Hello Molly. How are you today?" John tapped on the glass. He leaned in the doorway, seeing her at work.

"Hello John. Pleasure seeing you here. How are you?" Sensing his sadness, she approached him and hugged him tight.

"I'm alright. Any word on openings?" He searched her eyes, praying for a yes, yet knowing it's most likely going to be another no.

"Actually, one has opened. I spoke to the head doctor for you. He said he'd call you for an interview." Her face lit up a small amout, knowing the news pleased John.

His face let loose a small smile.

"Thank you, Molly. Pass over later for a bite. We could use the company."

He turned away and walked out, leaving Molly to her work. He stepped out into the snow and went on his way.


End file.
